


bootstrap

by GardenWight



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Temporal Paradox, Time Loop, Time Travel, hopefully it comes across, this idea reached down and grabbed me by the throat until i wrote it down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28846119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GardenWight/pseuds/GardenWight
Summary: "Here's my question for you. How big is the sky?""Really big.""Sure! You're right! But how big is really big?""I dunno. All the way up to the edge of the grass.""That would be the case, but remember, I said that all the dirt outside of this counts here. That includes all of the dirt in this forest, and all of the dirt in all of the mountains, and all of the dirt in all of the ground in all of the places in the whole land. I'll ask one more time. How big is really big?"He opens his mouth, and it clicks shut again because he doesn't have an answer. Wind takes this as a sign to continue, his pupils big and wide and shining with understanding, as if everything has fallen into place right in front of his eyes.▴△▴A little tale of casual loops. Time travel is one hell of a drug.
Relationships: Link/Link (Legend of Zelda), Linkcest, The Hero of Legend/The Hero of Hyrule, The Hero of Warriors/The Hero of the Wilds
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





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**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS NOT LU. DO NOT HOUND ME.
> 
> ▴△▴
> 
> hi all! ive been doing a lot of philosophical thinking and this idea came to me somewhere in the middle of that. i hope that what I'm trying to convey comes across, but ive gotten nothing but good reviews so far so i can at least be somewhat sure of that.
> 
> things will start to make a lot more sense around the second section or so. if any of you get confused about any of it, let me know, and i'll try to help explain things a bit better.
> 
> that being said, enjoy!

· • — ٠ △ ٠ — • ·

_i. The world is made of energy, which is neither created nor destroyed. Everything he is was here before me. Everything he was will remain._

· • — ٠ △ ٠ — • ·

These people are weird.

Link doesn't know how he got here, surrounded by these men. They're weird, really weird. They talk a bit funny, sometimes with their mouths and sometimes with their hands, and some of them seem to know each other. They all fell out of the same sky that he did, and he doesn't know anyone, so how come they act like they do? They're so big, they look so strong, like the type of strong that he wants to be. Did the Goddess bring them together? Why rope him into this? None of this is fair. He yanks on the fabric of his favorite green scarf, pulling it up and over his head. He wants to go home.

"Hold on, is he okay?"

"Hey, W – err, kid, you alright?" 

No. He's not some kid and he's not okay. He wants to go home. Hylia had better take him home.

There's a tiny hand that tugs on his scarf. He knows it's tiny because he can see the edges of a puny little shadow on the ground, and when he goes to tell off the assailant he finds a boy. A little boy, in a light blue shirt that doesn't match with any of the others, maybe four years old. A toddler. Is that what toddlers look like? He thinks he might've looked like that once, though his hair was a lot shorter. This boy's hair is different, it's long and golden and it shines in the sunlight, and there are leaves sticking out of it. It stresses him out, and he kind of wants to reach down and pick them out for him, even if he knows it's bad manners.

"These people are weird, huh?" 

Finally! He could cry! Someone understands, someone's just as confused as he is. He pulls the scarf back off of his head and goes to smooth out his hair. Mom calls it a stress habit, but he doesn't know what that means. He smooths his hair out and ignores the way that some of the adults are looking at him, because of course they're looking at him. They're weird, they're weird. 

"Yeah," he says, focusing only on the single person with a sense of normalcy about them. On closer inspection, though, there's something a bit weird about him too, and unlike the other cowards he isn't afraid to say it. "You look like me, kind of."

"I know," the boy says with a nod. Smart one, he must be. He would be jealous, but Dad says he's very smart for his age, so there isn't anything to be jealous about. "You're small, like me."

He wants to take offense to that, because there's no way in hell he's small, but this is a kid, and possibly the closest thing he'll get to being understood around this place. "Mm. I'm sure we're a lot better than these geezers over there."

"I'm not a geezer!"

"I'm not talking to you, doofus! I'm talking to my friend!" He sticks his tongue out very menacingly at the grown-ups, and is almost horrified to hear the way some of them chuckle. He does get a glare out of it though, from one of the ones with darker hair, and it's a small victory but it is his.

"I'm... your friend?"

He shrugs. "I don't see why not." He's not sure why, but something scratches at him from the back of his mind. He squints at the boy, something burning in the back of his throat that he can't quite fully taste. It tumbles out of his mouth before he can consider it any further. "You feel like a friend to me. I think we're already friends."

The boy thinks on this and nods, sending a smile his way. "Yeah. I think we are."

"Cool! Friends are cool. My name's Link, what's yours?"

"Wow," the boy says, and he would like him to get on with answering because he can't just keep calling his friend the boy. "I'm Link too!"

One of the grandpas grins at them. It's a kind grin, it fits his tanned face and windswept hair. He thinks that they would get along, if he had to pick one of them to get along with. "Crazy, isn't it? You fellas should join the club!"

The story goes like this. They are all Links, which means that together they're a chain, because that's what the pieces of a chain are called. He tells them as much, and they laugh, but this time it is with him and not at him. It feels rather nice, like something he could get used to. Maybe he's the funny one in this group. Maybe he should learn how to be funny. They are all Links, and together they're a chain of weird green shirts and weird blond hair. Not all of them, though, because his friend has a blue shirt instead. There is also one of them that has brown hair. The old man, specifically, the one who sits on the far end of the log next to the other old man, who leans up next to him. They're close, too close for people who haven't met before, and he thinks it's weird.

There's a lot of weirdness about.

▴△▴

Nicknames come a bit later. It was an eventuality, in hindsight.

Once it becomes apparent that they can't seem to find their way back, the group as a whole decides to get to know itself better. Of course, Link wasn't included in this decision, and neither was his friend Little Link. Little Link isn't the coolest thing to call him, which makes him feel somewhat sad because he thinks his friend deserves something better. Maybe one of the adults has another idea? He doesn't know, he doesn't talk to them much. Anyways, the two of them are much more content to sit in the grass away from the campfire and mess with the bugs while the grown-ups talk.

"Well," Little Link points at a cool beetle. It's blue, and has thorns on its head like the kind you see on roses. "That one is called a Rye beetle. Rye... no. No, yeah! It's a rye-no beetle. That's what Mama told me. There's a bunch of different types and they're all really funny looking."

He snickers and points at the oldest of the old men, the one with all the patches in his shirt and the long beard. "Sorta like that guy over there. Now that's funny looking if you ask me."

It's a lame joke and he knows it, but it earns a silly giggle out of Little Link, and that's enough of a reward for him. "I don't think he's that funny looking. He's cool. Strong."

He can't argue with that. Everyone here is so much bigger than him, they look like if they wanted to they could kick him around without breaking a sweat. Maybe that's why he likes Little Link so much. He understands. In truth, part of it might be finally being bigger than someone, but he shelves that thought away as fast as it appears. This is his friend. Friends don't put each other down.

Little Link sees him thinking and turns back to face the fire, where the grown-ups are sitting. They have mugs of something in their hands, probably the same stuff that Dad likes to have at dinnertime. Mom says that it's just water, but it smells a bit strange so he doesn't think he believes her. He watches them gasp as the one with the tan, whom he has so kindly dubbed to be the cool one, takes his cup and drinks down every drop of liquid in two big gulps. They scold him, which is a little mean in Link's eyes considering that he just did something really cool. That's unfair.

"Don't yell at him!" he shouts, gathering the attention of the others. Their stares are piercing, scary even, and he has to hold back the urge to wither underneath them. He stands true though, he puffs out his chest and marches right up over to the worst of the scolders, the man with the beard that he was talking about earlier. "It's cool that Li – wait."

He pauses. They're all Link. How are they going to tell each other apart? "It's... I thought that was a cool trick, I don't know why you're yelling at him," He says, pointing at the one with the tan, who beams at what is very high praise. Good. He should be proud. "I'm calling him Cool Link. Because he's cool, and you're all lame!"

"What a fucking _brat_ ," mutters someone on his left, and the fireside devolves into chaos.

Fucking. He puts that word away in a special little box in his head. Maybe he can throw it around later. It seemed to make them mad.

Cool Link throws a hand over his heart. "You're very kind to me, Captain." He likes that name. It makes him sound cool, like Cool Link. "Actually," he continues, patting the empty spot on the log next to him and holding up a bowl of what looks like soup, "Do you wanna call your friend over and sit with us? We have some nickname ideas that we think sound pretty neat."

"Okay."

He's a sucker for anything cool, so he walks over to drag Little Link away from the bugs and sit down with his cool adult friend. The nicknames aren't really as half-baked as he would've expected, as it turned out, and it seems that he only needs to sign off on their use rather than give his own input. He doesn't mind, because they sound more like codenames than something his parents would call him. They're neat, they're really neat, just like Cool Link – Wind now, his brain supplies – said they would be, so he's fine with them.

The story goes like this. They are all Links, and they are all heroes. He says this because only the heroes of his fairytales have the cool secret codenames that they have, and the longer he uses his the less it feels like playing pretend. They are all Links, sure, but he is Wars, and one day he's going to be so strong that he'll be a hero in his own right. He has a friend, one smaller than him, named Wild like the forests and a friend, one bigger than him, named Wind like the clouds. He has someone he likes to annoy named Twilight like the sunset, and someone who could be his dad named Mr. Hyrule like the great kingdom. He doesn't know much about the others, so he can't say much else.

He'll have to learn, he thinks. For now, he'll eat more of the food they're offering. Mr. Hyrule is _really_ good at cooking, almost as good as Mom.

▴△▴

Seasons change. They change and so do people. The sticky summer nights come and go, along with the guard Wars kept up around his newfound family. He calls them family tentatively, mutters it under his breath only when he knows he is alone, which is a very rare occurrence because it seems that there's always someone watching the little ones. He calls them family in the dead of the night, when only the stars can hear him. The word clings to the roof of his mouth. It's almost maddening, how right it feels.

Wild is crazy. He's absolutely crazy and he thinks that he's the greatest friend that he has ever made. He drags Wars up in the early mornings with sparkling eyes that leave trails of destruction in their wake and with the help of a master strategist they are utterly unstoppable. 

Twilight is their favorite target. He's cold and sharp and everything that Wars likes to poke fun at, so he does under the guise of a rivalry. The rivalry is on Twilight's end, of course, since he likes to turn around and blab on them for their pranks. He's just being friendly, and then this sore loser turns around and makes it a war. If it's going to be like that, then fine. He can play that game, too.

They call him Wars for a reason.

"You're such an assh – a butthole," Twilight tells him one day after they drop a frog down his shirt. Wars found it hilarious, the way he hopped around like a madman trying to free himself of the slimy thing. Wind got a laugh out of it too, which made him very happy to think about because Wind is cool and he wants to make him laugh all the time.

"I know you are," he says, having practiced this line in his head for days, "But what am I?"

Wild _howls_ with laughter, and Sky giggles from somewhere not too far away, but Twilight only rolls his eyes. "What are you, five?"

"Seven, actually," he corrects. Never let it be known that he isn't a big kid, because he's seven and that's pretty big for a kid. He's not a teenager, nor is he an adult, but he is a kid and by the Goddess he'll be the biggest kid in the group. Sky doesn't count, because he's agreeable like an adult and sleeps too much like one too. "Learn how to do math, dummy."

Twilight snaps his jaw shut and looks away. "I, um. I don't know how to do math."

...Wars doesn't feel very good about his teasing anymore.

"They don't teach math back on the farm. I know about cows and about sheep and that's it."

"I'll teach you then," he says simply, because he can't harass his rival if his rival is sad. It would do no one any good for his rival to be sad. It's not because he cares much or anything. Not at all. "I can count all the way up to a hundred! Do you want to learn how to do that too?"

Sky comes along, and they spend the rest of the afternoon running through numbers. Twilight trips up a bit on the eighties, the shape of the line being difficult for him to trace in the dirt, but he gets the hang of it in due time. Wild sits by and draws with them, not numbers but little frogs and bugs. Whatever, he thinks, he doesn't mind. He'll teach him how to count too if he asks. 

There's a pep in his step as they head back to camp, and one of the others pulls him aside later. His name is Time, just Time, which he thinks is a little lame but he won't say that to his face because he's sort of scary. Time leans down to look him in the eyes, and he doesn't let himself falter because he's a big kid and big kids don't falter.

"Thank you," Time tells him, instead of scolding him about the frog thing like he thought he was gonna do, "Twi told me that he had fun today. I think getting along is good for you both."

Wars watches him as he goes back to the others, a little stunned. He won't cry. Heroes don't cry.

Wind shoots him a wink and calls him to the group, and Wild grabs his hand to drag him over to the rest of them.

He goes to bed and dreams of two families. One is far away at home, and one is right here and a home in its own right.

He won't cry. Heroes don't cry.

▴△▴

Things get easier with Twi after that. He's not sure when Twilight became Twi, but he likes the nickname a lot more than he likes the long one. It's easier to say, and it feels special to him. Rivals are supposed to be special, right? 

He's hanging out with Twi one day when the curious little event happens.

"What are they doing?" he asks, pointing at the two old geezers that are hanging out near the trees. He watches as Twi looks over, narrows his eyes, widens them again and shoos him away as quietly as he can.

"That's called kissing," he responds, biting back the cackle that Wars can hear rising in his throat, "They're kissing, oh my Goddess, I knew it! Four owes me a purple rupee."

"What's kissing?"

There's a grin on his face when he answers. "It's... uh. It's what you do when you want to get married."

"What's married?"

"It's when you love someone a lot, you stay with them for the rest of your life."

"Like how I wanna stay with my parents? I love them, and I wanna stay with them. Maybe all of you too."

"No, it's a different type of love. There are a few of them."

Wars cocks his head, and Twilight sits him down in a forest clearing to teach him a little lesson. There are more types of love than he thought. You can love your friends and you can love your parents, and you can love the people you like to tease and you can love the people you would want to be. You can show love when you hold hands with people, or hug people, or give them pretty things, or share your food with them. You can even love yourself. He takes in the info with wide eyes.

"What about the old men?"

"They're not that old. Hyrule's 35, and Legend is 30."

"That's still so old, though. What kind of love do they have?"

Twi goes a bit red, which Wars thinks is very funny. He won't say anything, though, because he wants to listen to what he has to say.

"Their love is one of those special kinds. It's like when you want to be with someone forever, more than a family or a friend, it's a very special thing. That's the type of person that you get married to, and have a lot of babies with."

Babies... hmmm. He doesn't like babies all that much. He sticks his tongue out in mock disgust. "I don't like babies. They're kind of stupid." Wild's a bit like a baby though, on the bigger side, but Wild is cool, so he doesn't count.

"I found you guys!" Wild shouts with glee, barreling into him with the enthusiasm of a galloping horse. Speak of the devil.

"Wild, I saw Mr. Legend and Mr. Hyrule kissing!"

"What's kissing?"

"Twi says that it's when you get married and have a lot of babies."

"Wow, really? ...What's married?"

Camp that night is fun. He wants to squeeze more information out of the geezers, but Wild beats him to the punch by sauntering right up and asking when the babies are coming. Mr. Legend goes as red as the beets that Mom likes to cook and Mr. Hyrule chokes on whatever he's drinking, which is pretty funny if the way everyone roars is any indication. He wonders what Mr. Hyrule is drinking. Wind told him that it was a special grown-up drink and not water, so now he's not really sure what to think about it. Maybe he'll have some one day.

He looks over at Wild, and that word that stuck to the roof of his mouth now sticks on the edge of his tongue. A family, huh?

Maybe he'll have some of that, too.

▴△▴

"Do you want to get married, Wild? I kind of want to, but I have no one to do it with."

Wild scrunches up his nose. "I dunno. I just want to eat. I'm hungry. Whatever Mr. Hyrule is making smells good."

"Okay."

"Wait! Look at this bug!"

▴△▴

Wind calls him over on a particularly warm autumn day. When he goes to see what the reason for this is, he spies something carved into one of the stumps that litter the area.

He squints and turns his head sideways to make it look right.

"Whoever drew this drew their eight wrong," he notes, a bit frustrated at being unable to get his head tilted at the right angle.

The other laughs. "No, silly goose," he says, using one of his big hands to shift him back upright, "This isn't an eight. It's a new number that I want to teach you about. Have you ever heard of infinity?"

"Affinity?"

"Nope. _In_ finity." He goes to trace along the edge of the notched wood, following the looping path. "Here, let me show you something." Wars watches with great curiosity as Wind leans down to poke two holes into the dirt. "Imagine that this little dot is you and that little dot is me. We're here, together, in this big old world that we don't really understand." He moves to draw a larger circle encompassing the dots, then a smattering of clouds outside of that, and he looks back up when he's finished. There is something shining in his eyes that he can't decipher, and it amplifies his curiosity tenfold. "And now we have the world that we're living in. In the world is everything you know, the trees, the water, the rocks and the bugs, Wild and Twi and all of our friends."

"Makes sense. What's infinity?"

"That's it."

"What! That's not it!" How infuriating!

Wind cackles and reaches up to brush a few strands of hair out of Wars' eyes. He lets him, because this is a friend of his and he trusts him with something as gravely important as touching his hair. "You're so impatient. Alright, look closer. All this dirt outside of the little world I drew counts as part of this picture. That's all the sky."

He looks closer, just like Wind tells him, and he tries to see what he's showing him. It takes him a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he cocks his head and sees a great big sky. Okay, no big deal. "So what's so special about it?"

"Here's my question for you. How big is the sky?"

"Really big."

"Sure! You're right! But how big is really big?"

"I dunno. All the way up to the edge of the grass."

"That would be the case, but remember, I said that all the dirt outside of this counts here. That includes all of the dirt in this forest, and all of the dirt in all of the mountains, and all of the dirt in all of the ground in all of the places in the whole land. I'll ask one more time. How big is really big?"

He opens his mouth, and it clicks shut again because he doesn't have an answer. Wind takes this as a sign to continue, his pupils big and wide and shining with understanding, as if everything has fallen into place right in front of his eyes. "When I say that the sky is really big, what I mean is that it never ends. That's infinity, something that can go on forever and ever and ever. Just like that shape in the stump, since if I wanted to I could follow it with my finger without ever reaching an end point. Infinity is bigger than anything else that has ever existed, it's filled with stars and rocks and people from all over time, and yet despite all of that we've somehow managed to be here, together. I think that's pretty darn special, don't you?"

He reaches down to pat Wars on top of the head and goes to walk back towards the others, smiling as if he hasn't just caused his little brain to explode into at least a hundred different brain-shaped pieces.

There isn't that much sleep for him that night, no. He spends his time in the moonlight gazing up at an open sea of swirling black, one that is more boundless than anything he has ever seen before.

▴△▴

"Wild, have you heard of infinity?"

Wild shakes his head at him and puts a little hand up into his hair to pick at one of the leaves. He's beginning to think that they won't come out. "No, but Four's boots have strings on them. Do you want to help me tie them together to make him fall?"

The explanation dies in his throat, making way for a maniacal grin. That _does_ sound more fun.

▴△▴

The two old men aren't terrible. They're actually rather kind to him, and he feels a bit bad for calling them old men all the time, but he doesn't feel bad enough to stop. It's funny. He's funny like that.

"Um," he says rather eloquently to them one day, because he's wanted a better explanation ever since Twi talked to him about the subject and they're the only ones he knows that can answer. They stop folding the laundry and look at him expectantly, which makes him squirm. Wild watches from somewhere nearby. "Twi says there's a lot of sorts of love, and that you two have a special kind. What does that feel like?"

Mr. Legend pauses and stares, as if something that had been plaguing him finally clicks in his mind. He sets down a stack of clean shirts, gaze softening as he thinks on the matter. "Well, putting it into words is the difficult part," he starts, reaching over to wipe a bit of dirt from Mr. Hyrule's cheek in a gesture that is strangely sweet, "But someone I know said it very well, so I'll tell you what he told me. As you know, there are many different kinds of love. This kind is the sort where your heart feels a little bit incomplete without them by your side, the sort that you can feel from your head all the way to your toes whenever they smile at you. It's the sort that makes all other sorts feel like nothing in comparison." He stares at him then, knowingly. "One day you'll find that for yourself, and you'll never want to be without it. Once you've found it, you'll never have to, because it will always follow you wherever you go."

"I have a question too," Wild says, not having listened to a word he said. "You're good at making food."

"That's not a question," Mr. Hyrule says with a laugh. He pulls out a book, one frayed and worn with age. "Thank you, though. I had a good teacher. I can teach you too, if you want."

"Yes, please!"

Wars thanks them and turns to make his leave, a lump in his throat that can't be explained.

▴△▴

Seasons change. They change, like people, and so do even the most constant of things. Twi is less a rival and more a friend, Wind is less a friend and more an uncle, and Mr. Hyrule and Mr. Legend are less men and more fathers, even if he won't tell them that to their faces.

The story goes like this. They are all Links, they are all heroes and together they make a chain. They are a family, too.

▴△▴

Hylia decides that she's had enough of them for now. Their existing together sucks up her time, so she goes to make things right again. When they wake next, just after the dawn, there is a swirling gilded portal that sits at the edge of the space that they carved themselves into. It looks just like others they've seen during their time, but the magic thrums with a bittersweet tang and they all know what it means.

"I think we've overstayed our welcome," says Time, ever observant. 

"For what it's worth," Mr. Legend responds after a moment to think about it, hand intertwined with the other old man's, "I'll treasure this time with you all. You're like the family I never had."

Wars tugs at his scarf. Now or never, he thinks. "I don't know about you, but I had you. This is the family I did have. Now I have two families. I think that's cool."

He doesn't look to Wild. He can't.

"Oh, kid." Wind walks over and pulls him into a crushing hug. He squirms for a moment, but relaxes into it after another. Goddess knows when he'll have this again. "I want you to listen to me and listen well, okay? Live a good life for me. No regrets, no remorse."

He's a big kid, a strong one, and big kids don't cry, even if they want to cry more than anything right now. "Just you watch. I'll see you again and I'll be so big and strong that you won't be able to believe it!"

"I know you will."

"This isn't the end," Mr. Hyrule calls from over his shoulder, after handing the old cookbook from before off to Wild. His voice is rich with emotion, something unfathomably personal. "Far from it! We'll be back together again before you even have time to blink."

They're the first to go, the two old geezers, and they go hand in hand. One by one the others head out along after them. One by one they disappear until it's only Wars and his very best friend in the whole wide world. He can't find the words, so he allows Wild's embrace to wash over him instead, up until he's ready to go. There is an unspoken promise that fills his mind, and he hopes that if he thinks hard enough he can send it right into his head and say everything he needs to say without having to open his mouth.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Heroes don't cry, but maybe this one can, once he's out of sight.

· • — ٠ △ ٠ — • ·

_ii. His existence touches both my past and my future at one point - infinity. Lifelines aren't lines at all. They are more like circles._

· • — ٠ △ ٠ — • ·

You could say that Link is a romantic. He thinks he deserves it, after all the shit he's been through.

He has seen quite a number of things with these eyes of his. Hylia is a good and merciful goddess as much as she is cruel, as much of a fan of love as she is of war. He's had more than his fair share of both, having allowed her to wring him out like a wet towel over the course of many trials and many tribulations. It's maddening, but only if he thinks about it too hard, so he doesn't.

The hero is a product of his own experiences, they live behind his eyes without paying rent. Sometimes they sneak up on him and grab him by the neck. These are the nights of which all bad nights are built, the ones where he stares for hours upon hours at the little vial of poison he is never without, lest a traitor of the crown pop by for a visit. There is a ruddy mixture of bokoblin and hylian blood on his hands, and on the nights where he can't sleep very well he sees it staining his sheets as he grips them in fear. 

On these nights, he isn't Link. He is Wars, captain of the Hylian Royal Army, Hero of Warriors.

Sometimes they pop into his mind so sweetly and tuck him into bed at night. These are the nights of which all good nights are built, the ones where he may sink into his little couch and think of all the love he has been given to him over the ages. The battles may have brought suffering but with it came glory and fortune and eventually an age of prosperity. On these blessed nights where he can push his flashbacks aside, he allows himself glimpses of a happiness that he would like to have once more.

On these nights, he isn't Link. He is Wars, brother of Wind, son of Hyrule and Legend.

The story goes like this. His name is Link, and he is a hero chosen by the Great Goddess to wield her Triforce of Courage. Once upon a bygone time, he was a part of a chain.

▴△▴

He's tending to his potted plants when suddenly he's falling from the open sky and into a field of grass. When he gets his bearings, the air smells of fresh foliage and new spring growth, and he thinks that Hylia may finally be taking mercy on him for his troubles because there is a somewhat familiar visage on the ground a few paces away.

"Captain?" Wind stares at him, utterly gobsmacked by the turn of events.

He chuckles at that and opens his arms up wide for the teenager he's faced with now, who rushes over for a hug with record-breaking speed. He may be a few years off from how old he was when they met, but he has the same tan, the same stupidly perfect windswept hair. Some things will always be the same. "Hey there, sailor. Looks like the Goddess ain't done with us yet."

He knows that Wind doesn't remember the first time they interacted. He's far younger now than he was when they did so, because Wars' past is somehow Wind's future and the world of magic works in ways that he can't even comprehend. It had hurt him terribly when they fought together in the war, living with a sibling that can't remember you for who you are, not in the same way that you remember him. It was the sort of pain that one only gets used to with a lot of time to process.

He's had nothing but time, however, and at this point it's all under the bridge. Any moment he gets to spend with him now is a blessing, in his eyes.

"I think we have to deal with more timeline bullshit," he says, as calmly as he physically can, upon hearing a yelp of surprise from somewhere to his left, "Because I get the feeling that we aren't alone."

One by one, the others fill in. Their ages are a bit scrambled, and he finds that he is once again surrounded not by a family, but rather half of a family and some that will get there eventually. It's strange, being one of the elders of the group when he himself was once a scared little boy surrounded by large and dangerous men. A bigger Twi and a bigger Sky find a place next to him very quickly, having been some of the ones to remember the past, while a smaller Legend and a smaller Hyrule stay off to the side, wary, not wanting to overstep any of the boundaries that seem oddly blurred to them. 

He's been there before, and while he won't eye them with pity, he does understand.

Wild arrives last, and it punches the breath right out of him. He's filled out pretty nicely, a very handsome man despite the burn scars that adorn his body like woven threads. When he goes to approach him the other steps back, eyes going wide with dreadful apprehension, and despite being older and very much present the first time around there is no hint of recognition to be found anywhere on his face.

He swallows, thick and hard, and nods to him. He doesn't wait for acknowledgement and turns back to hear what Sky has been up to, pretending that his heart hadn't just been stomped into dust.

Seasons change. They change and so do people.

▴△▴

Twi nudges him on the shoulder. "Swapped out the green scarf for something blue, eh? Taking on a bit after your old friend, I see."

"It was given to me," he responds, acting like he doesn't use it to dry his eyes in the early mornings, acting like he doesn't take comfort in imagining that it's a shirt he doesn't own. "That's all."

▴△▴

The discussion of nicknames arises once again, and this time it's far easier considering that he already knows exactly what those names are. As it turns out, they really were heroes, having conquered great evils in their own times, earning lucrative titles like the Hero of Legend or the Hero of Time. It makes great sense to him now why he readily accepted the names for his own use. 

Deep down, he thinks some part of him knew.

He tells the youngers that he knows of them from stories passed down. He's taken to sorting them in his mind based on their memories. The olders are his brothers, his friends, his family, the ones he knows, the ones that know him. Chatter comes easy with them, and he feels as though he could waste the rest of his days away simply catching up. The youngers are the ones who have seemingly gone back in time, the ones that don't know him the way he knows them, the ones he needs to walk on eggshells around lest he overwhelm them. He can't say it doesn't hurt.

"How are you adjusting to this so easily, Wars?" Four asks him that night, after Wild so generously takes to making some dinner. "I can barely figure out who's who. No offense, everyone."

"None taken."

"I know you from our myths," he tells them, his eyes never leaving the flame. He tells them that he matched their descriptions to their faces with ease. He does not tell them the truth.

Instead, he simply takes a sip of the meat stew he's been offered, and is pleasantly surprised at the taste. Wild's gotten pretty damn good at cooking, he has to admit.

"This is delicious, Wild," Hyrule says with stars in his eyes. He sets down his bowl, which has been licked completely clean, and Wars can't bring himself to be disgusted about it because he thinks he might do that too.

The boy – no, the man – looks a bit like a deer caught in torchlight, the emotions in his expression flickering back and forth for a moment before smoothing out into something vaguely fond. "Thank you," he replies, and it's raspy and a bit hoarse but Wars finds the ice in his chest melting anyways because there's still a childlike wonder to it even after all this time. "It was one of the recipes I learned as a kid. I don't really remember where I learned it, it's just muscle memory at this point."

He ignores the way the words twist into his lungs like knives. This isn't about him.

"I'm not all that great. Would you be able to teach me?"

"...If you want."

They are all Links, and they are all heroes. Together they're a little bit dysfunctional, because that's what happens when only half of a whole remembers itself. It's hard sometimes, really hard other times, and on occasion it's downright painful, but they make do. They always make do.

▴△▴

He's having one of his historic bad nights when he hears the little exchange.

They sneak up on him sometimes. One minute he's lying content in his bedroll and the next minute he's moving to place his dagger underneath his pillow. Realistically, yes, he can trust them. War will pick you up and make you something entirely unrecognizable if you're not careful, however, and he was never one for caution until the double agents started pouring in. He thinks that if he looks at his hands there will be red on them, so he doesn't look at his hands or at his pillow or even much of anything, and instead chooses to focus on the sounds around him.

"...It's strange, isn't it?"

Scratch that. 

He pries an eye open and sees the shadowy figures of his once-fathers staring into the dying embers that sit in the center of camp. Rule and Ledge, as he's taken to calling them when no one's around to hear it, have their backs turned to him. It's a little hard to hear what they're saying, the combination of one ear pressed into the bedroll and the other out in the gentle coo of the breeze, but he catches enough.

"Yeah," says a voice that sounds a lot like Legend's, albeit a bit more youthful and a lot more sardonic than he remembers, "It is. They feel so familiar, it... kind of hurts."

His breath hitches. You see, someone very important to him once explained the concept of infinity using nothing but a drawing in the dirt, and it may have taken him a few years, but he learned some time ago that knowing and understanding are two very different things. He may have known then, but now he is beginning to understand.

"I just can't shake the feeling that I've _known_ them before, somehow, somewhere."

"It could be the spirit of the hero, right?" Rule replies. "I mean, doesn't that get passed on from person to person? Maybe it's just that we're all here at the same time, and the spirit isn't used to it, right?"

"I guess," Legend mutters, "But that doesn't feel right. Something doesn't add up."

"You'll get it one day," he says then, because he can't resist throwing a little bit of oil into this pan any longer. Hyrule and Legend practically jump out of their skins, which he would've laughed at if he didn't care about waking the others.

"And what the fuck does that mean, old man?" 

"Legend! Don't be rude!"

Wars barks out a cackle this time, unable to hold it back. Goddess, he hopes no one wakes up. And so it all goes, huh? He lets his eye flutter shut and prepares himself for a much more restful sleep.

"Figure it out."

▴△▴

The story goes like this. They are all Links, and they are all heroes. They are also slowly warming back up to each other, the youngers settling into new places in the group dynamic. It's hard to get used to, the way that this time around he's been labeled the old man with Wild and Twi, especially when they aren't even all that old, but Hylia's never been one to make sense with her ways. 

He can't blame them for anything that they're feeling, he's still getting used to it all himself.

They play games to get to know each other again, clutching mugs of ale that no one will let Wind have. It makes him upset, and Wars can't stand to see him upset so he allows him some sips of his own cup, much to the horror of the others. It's alright, he's a pirate. He can hold his weight fine. They spill their favorite tales in the dead of night, they spar in fields of untouched grass, they learn how to split their food and how to live without feeling broken all the time. It's a terribly tiring affair and he wouldn't exchange it for anything in the whole world.

The inner child in him knows a thing or two about love.

The outer adult knows that it's something you need to work for, and he will work as hard as he needs to work in order to have it again. He will have it again if it kills him.

If it kills him, he'll come back.

▴△▴

The first time that Wild approaches him on his own, he asks him how to tie a fishing line. He's always happy to help, and he tells him as much, taking great delight in the way that the tips of his pointed ears turn a pretty shade of pink. They stay by the nearest pond for hours on end trying to get the hang of the sport before Wild hops in the water to blast all the fish to high heaven with his magic bombs. It's the funniest thing he's seen in a very long time, and he needs to step back when Twi scolds him for mucking up the natural environment in case he doubles down into a fit of giggles.

The second time that Wild approaches him on his own, he tells Wars his story. Anger burns white-hot in his mind. Anger for Ganon, anger for Hylia, anger for the machines that stripped his life away, anger for the sheikah that repaired him at the cost of his memories, anger for anything and everything that has ever wronged him before.

There is also a hint of amusement, buried deep down below it all, because only Wild could sleep for a century and still have leaves in his hair.

The third time that Wild approaches him on his own, it is to ask him what he thinks he should wear for cold weather. He's trying to settle a debate about what looks better, a circlet from Gerudo Town or a little ear clip made of metal feathers that he picked up from the Rito. It takes Wars a minute to remember what a Rito is, since he's only encountered one in his life, but once he does he asks to see them both. Wild holds his hands out to show him the goods, and he wordlessly takes the circlet and fastens it around his head. This time, he doesn't see the pink on his face until he leans back to admire the work.

"Go with the circlet," he says after some time. He doesn't need to see the clip on him to know that this suits him well enough, nor does he want to deal with the intimacy of braiding his hair, nor does he want to deal with figuring out why that bothers him. Wild thanks him and scampers, actually fucking scampers, back over to Four and the others. It's endearing, in a weird sort of way.

Seasons change. They change, like people, and sometimes they change in ways that don't make all that much sense. He's surprisingly okay with that.

It is the fourth time that has him in a tizzy. 

They're off in the woods somewhere, and he goes to pick up a rusted sword that sticks out from the ground when he feels a hand tug at his scarf. The action is familiar to him, achingly so, and when he turns he is met with a stare he hasn't seen since he was seven years old.

"You asked me once," Wild begins. There are tears threatening to spill from his eyes, and Wars would like nothing more than to reach up and brush them away, but he doesn't because he is nothing if not in control at any and all times. "If I have ever heard of infinity."

The blade slips out of his hand in shock, clattering against the ground with what he thinks would be a terribly resounding sound were it not masked by the ringing of his ears. "You... you remember?"

"Not all of it, but I... I want to. Can you tell me about it?"

The words fall out of his mouth like water. He speaks of numbers, of numbers so big that you can't count them on all the fingers of all the people of all the world, of fuzzy feelings of recollection and the permanent impermanence of all things, and he can't see through his unshed tears by the time he is finished but all is right in the world because Wild wraps his arms right on around him. It feels like a hug he indulged in once in another lifetime, once in his youth, when they were so sure that they would never see each other again and yet so paradoxically sure that not even the Goddess would be able to keep them apart for long.

"I f-forgot you," Wild blubbers into his chest with heaving breaths, "I can't believe I _forgot_ you, Wars, fuck, I'm s-so sorry – I'm _so fucking sorry._ "

"Listen to me," he tries to soothe, ignoring the tremor in his own voice and pushing forward for his sake, for his sake, "They stole your memories from you and that's not your fault, I could _never_ blame you for that. I... I have enough memories for the both of us, okay? If you want me to, I'll tell you what I know."

Wild nods, trembling, and squeezes tighter.

They're all Links and they're all heroes, and by some divine miracle they are beginning to heal.

▴△▴

Legend approaches him one night, looking not unlike a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

"Um," he starts out, blushing something fierce, and Wars somehow knows exactly where this is going, "This is going to sound really stupid, and I want you to bear with me here because if you say anything at all about it to anyone else I think I'll kill you. Got it, geezer?"

"Alright then." If he wants to pull that card, fine. He'll shoot back. They call him Wars for a reason. "What's eatin' ya, sport?"

His face darkens, which is pretty damn funny if you ask him, but it shifts back into its anxious state soon enough. Now, this just won't do.

"Out of all of them, you seem like you have the most experience, with your pretty boy face and all."

"Oh, so I'm pretty now?"

"I'll _kill_ you," he hisses out, without even an ounce of bite to it, and he acquiesces because he wants to hear the words out loud. "How... do you know if you're in love?"

He can smell freshly washed fabric from somewhere in the area, and he knows that if he turns to look he will see that nothing is there. "Well, I don't really know for sure, because you might get a lot of lust in the army but you don't get a lot of love. One of my dads told me what it feels like, though, so I get the idea of it." He pauses, trying to recall the words. "It's... the sort of thing that you feel from the top of your head all the way down to your toes when they smile at you. Your heart feels a little bit incomplete without them beside you, it makes everything else irrelevant." His eyes fall shut. "You'll never want to be without it. If you're lucky, you'll never have to, because it'll follow you wherever you go."

His mouth parts in surprise before snapping shut again as he processes. "You have two dads?"

Wars cracks a little smile, nostalgia flowing over him in waves. "I did, once."

Legend thanks him and heads off down the path towards the rest of the crew. Wild stands over there, tall and not quite proud yet, and when he spots Wars he sends a beaming smile his way. He shoots a wave back and takes a moment to consider his own advice. Is it his own advice or is it Legend's? He isn't quite sure.

Either way, he has some thinking to do.

When they sit around the fire that night, he watches as Legend tentatively reaches over to put his hand over Hyrule's. Hyrule jolts and looks at the floor, but he does not move to pull away.

Wars looks over to Wild, the man who under all that scar tissue and all that trauma is still somehow the boy he knew, and takes careful note of the way his palm rests against their log. After a tense breath, he moves to lace their fingers together.

Wild flushes a bit, and he doesn't need to look at him to know that a lopsided grin has wormed its way onto his face.

He does not pull away either.

▴△▴

"Here's a memory for you," he says to Wild on a day where the sky is marbled with thin clouds. He's taken to finding him on the days where he feels nostalgic, regaling him with the funniest stories from their adventures together as horrible little children. "I taught Twi how to count up to a hundred."

Sometimes, he'll space off for a beat before responding. His face will light up like the sun as he helps finish the story with the last lines of a memory that has returned to him mere moments prior. It sucks the breath out of him every time, the way his eyes shine with emotion, words tumbling out before he can stop them. He can only stand and watch, something boiling in his heart that threatens to bubble over and spill right out.

"You were there," he continues, ignoring the way the other stares out into the open field around them. "For every number that Twi traced into the dirt, you drew a little insect. I think they were fighting, I remember the word 'tournament' coming up when you rushed to explain your art."

Sometimes, he'll space off for a beat before responding. When he turns to face him again he will have a bright little smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. This is one of those times.

"I can't recall," he responds, voice soft and a touch sad, "But that sounds like something I would do. Purah said that I was always eager to be a knight, even as a boy. It would make sense that I'd have battle on the brain."

Ah. He closes his eyes.

"...I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I have plenty more to share."

▴△▴

"Hyrule's doing pretty well with his cooking lessons." says Wild, a hand on his chin. "Maybe I should make him a cookbook."

Wars blinks away the fleeting sight of frayed paper. "I think that's a great idea."

▴△▴

"Oh! Here's a memory for you," he says to Wild one afternoon as they fill bottles at a nearby stream. Wild looks up from where the mouth of the glass meets the swell of the water, head tilted out of curiosity. "We snuck over to the others when we were very young, and tied Four's boots together by the laces while he was sitting down. Sky called him over to look at something he found in the woods, and when he got up to move he tripped right into a puddle. I think it took you a solid half of an hour to stop laughing about it."

"Oh Goddess," he replies through giggles brought on by the mental image, hands shaking with the effort of keeping a semblance of composure. "Absolutely brilliant, what happened next?"

"Get this, he thought that Sky did it since he called him over. The best part? Sky wasn't in on it at all."

"Hylia, that's incredib – oh fuck!"

A splash.

"The bottle!"

▴△▴

They grow closer with enough time, possibly closer than they have ever been before. They exchange meaningful glances when they believe no one is looking. They sneak off into the woods to explore without hindrance, they rush to be the first to help each other up whenever one of them falters, they spar with an electric tension that is tangible enough to raise the hairs on his arms every time their swords clash. They share many secrets and many meals and a bedroll, at times.

Over the course of their journey they have many of these little moments, and he resolves somewhere along the road to never look back. It means he will never look forward either, because his forward will always be someone else's back which will circle right back to him eventually. It's rather complicated, this reality he's living.

There is no forward, and there is no back. There is only now, and that's more than alright.

It is a cold and snowy evening when Wild tentatively leans in. He meets him halfway.

▴△▴

He's out exploring with Wind one day when he almost trips over a stump, one that he realizes he knows very well. He leans in to inspect it, eyeing the looped carving critically, before calling the little sailor over to where he stands now.

"Wind," he says, "What do you know about infinity?"

The younger boy thinks for a moment. "I don't think I've ever heard that word. What does it mean?"

Wars hums as he reaches down to point out the carving. "Do you see this shape?" He traces over the groove with his finger in a manner that is almost reverent. "What do you notice about it?"

Wind crouches down to get a closer look, thick brows furrowing in thought. "It's a loop. It looks a bit like the number eight, but different."

"You're already doing better than I did when I was taught all this." He grins at the memory of hands on his head, twisting him back upright. "Let me ask you something. Can you tell me where this shape begins?"

"I..." Wind cocks his head in a way that makes him feel as if he's looking through a window to the past. Or maybe the future. It's a bit murky. "It doesn't begin? Not really, see, it's connected perfectly."

"Atta boy. That means it doesn't end either, it's one big perfect little loop." He stares him down, his gaze heavy with information that he's only just now beginning to grasp. "That is infinity. It's something that has no beginning, and no end, it goes on forever. It's the night sky in all of its glory and the meaning of time itself. It's anything and everything that has ever existed, trapped in this little shape right here. We are living in it right now, because not even death can stop infinity. Our whole world revolves around our mortality, our endings, and infinity is a force outside of that. It's a bit hard to get into words, but it's important and I want you to remember it for reasons that I can't explain right now."

His eyes go wide. "...What am I supposed to do with this information?"

He reaches down to ruffle his hair. "This is gonna sound like a weird request, but I want you to hold it in your heart and explain that only to the people you think should know. You won't understand now, but I can promise you that you will."

Wars stands up and brushes the dirt off of his knees. "We're just little bits of nothing in a big fat world of infinite possibilities, and despite everything we've somehow managed to end up here, together. I don't know about you, but I think that's pretty special."

▴△▴

"Here's a memory for you," he pants to Wild one night after breaking away from a kiss that feels holier than anything he's ever experienced. "I asked you once if you wanted to get married."

The man's breath catches. "Did you?" he asks, somewhere between a whisper and a gasp. Their noses bump, and the impact sends shockwaves running through every single nerve in his body.

"I did, and you said you didn't know." He leans over to nip at the lobe of his ear. "Let me come home with you. Let me change your mind."

"...Fuck. Yeah, okay."

▴△▴

Seasons change. They change, like people, and so do even the most constant of things. Twi is less a friend and more a sibling, Wind is less an uncle and more a nephew, and Wild is less a 'something' and more a 'something else.'

The story goes like this. They are all Links, and they are all heroes. Together, they are starting to form a chain.

▴△▴

There is only one thing that truly lasts forever. All other good things must come to an end. Once again, Hylia decides up in her little golden chamber that her heroes have sucked up too much of her time, so she sends a portal their way and lets them deal with it in the morning. Once again, Wars is stared down by a pool of golden light. 

This time, he's far from nervous. 

"Gentlemen," Sky says, voice oddly soft, "These have been some of the best days of my life. I mean it."

Hugs are exchanged, along with gifts and other various words of wisdom. Wild reaches into his slate and pulls out a handcrafted book, one that he presents to Hyrule with a toothy smile. He knows it's handcrafted because he watched him spend hours fussing over it until it looked just right. Hyrule brings a palm up to cover his mouth.

"For you," he says, passing it off to him. "Be careful with it, there's only one of 'em. If you memorize those recipes you'll never be out of a meal."

Hyrule nods, tears welling up in his eyes. "Thank you. I'll definitely practice."

"You'll get real good at it too, I'm sure."

He turns to Wind and yanks him into a deep hug while his guard is down, finding amusement in the way he squeaks. "Live a good life for me, okay? No regrets, no remorse, just look forward and keep trudging on."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Cap."

He doesn't think he can stay much longer without tears of his own, and the last thing he wants to do is cry here and now, so he reaches down to throw an arm around Wild's shoulders instead. When their eyes meet he sees a boy and a man and a bunch of brilliant little things in between. He remembers that once he watched a pair of goofy old men step into a portal hand in hand and he thinks that he would like to do that too. He thinks that he knows a thing or two about love, and that while there are gaps in his knowledge he'd like to fill them in.

He thinks that there is no one better to do such a thing with.

"Are you coming?"

The only answer he receives is a hand in his, and that's all he needs. 

He throws his head back to take one last look at his family, heart threatening to burst with the sheer amount of love it is holding, and laughs. "This isn't the end!" he shouts, voice brimming with a specific breed of confidence as he allows himself to bathe in the glow of light magic. 

Breathe out, breathe in.

"We'll be here again before you know it."

· • — ٠ △ ٠ — • ·

_iii. It is safe to start anywhere and the story will curve its way back to the starting point. Eventually. In other words, it doesn't matter where I begin. It doesn't change the end._

· • — ٠ △ ٠ — • ·

Link has very rarely seen this much green in one place, be it the green of grass or the green of tunics that always look just a bit the same. 

Growing up on a little island in a vast and beautiful blue sea was one of the few experiences that he wouldn't switch out for anything else. He's had other experiences like this as well, like meeting Tetra and meeting Linebeck, like meeting the Captain once during a war of eras and once more during a... peace of them. The Goddess works on a scale he can't even begin to fathom, so he doesn't bother to try anymore. 

Now, staring out into an open verdant field, he's met with quite a few familiar faces. Some seem to have aged forward in a regular manner, and others seem to have aged backwards in a manner that shouldn't be possible, while a few of them don't seem to have aged at all. It's all very strange, and he thinks that this is the beginning of another little experience to add to the list.

Ah, well. He's always been rather fond of the name Wind. He wouldn't mind taking it up once more.

The Captain, who is by some odd turn of events a young child, is off somewhere away from all the chatter. He can't quite blame him. It's loud, and he's surrounded by folks that are a lot bigger than he is. He sympathizes, having been in that exact spot during his first run-in with the conundrum that is the flow of time. Funny, how things seem to work.

"Hold on," says a Hyrule that is far older and seems far wiser than he should be after only a few years apart, "Is he okay?"

Wind looks back at the little captain, who has his scarf pulled up over his head. A stress habit, if he remembers correctly. "Hey, W – err," He starts, before remembering that he doesn't know that name yet. Hylia's probably laughing her golden ass off right about now. "Kid, you alright?"

It's a young boy that steps up to help him, the youngest of all of them, and his expression goes soft when he realizes that it's Wild. He knows how their story ends, so he'll give them a bit of time to interact. He turns back and listens to the excited rambling that falls from an older Legend's mouth. He was heartbroken to have to part with Rule the first time around, but Wild and Wars disappeared together in the end, so maybe this time they'll get their happy ending too.

"I'm not a geezer," A teenaged Twilight snaps back behind him, and when he turns once again to see the issue he can feel a bright defiance burning in Wars' heart. He smiles. Some things don't change. 

"I'm not talking to you, doofus! I'm talking to my friend!"

He'll admit that he gets a chuckle out of the way that he sticks his tongue out at them all.

Wild's eyes go wide. "I'm... your friend?"

"I don't see why not. You feel like a friend to me. I think we're already friends."

Wind's breath hitches. You see, someone very important to him once explained the concept of infinity using nothing but a tree stump, and it may have taken him a few years, but knowing and understanding are two very different things. He had known this for quite some time, and he thought that he had understood too. He didn't, no, not until now, and he realizes this because a great fog lifts in his mind for what isn't the first time and almost certainly isn't the last time either.

"Yeah. I think we are."

The story goes like this.

· • — ٠ △ ٠ — • ·

**Author's Note:**

> cue curtains falling
> 
> i had a lot of fun with this one! wars/wild is a dynamic i have decided that i very much enjoy.
> 
> ▴△▴
> 
> a note on the two adventures:  
> the reason their ages are all jumbled up is because both of these adventures happen at different points in their lives.  
> \- in the one we're thrown into first, everyone is as old as the age their respective games will be turning in 2021. as of this year, wind waker will be 19 and twilight princess will be 15, so that's the age that i write wind and twilight for this.  
> \- in the one we're thrown into second, everyone is as old as they are when they finish their adventures. i believe that after the war of eras, wind is roughly 13 or 14, while twilight is headcanoned to be around 21.
> 
> the dividing quotes are from a book titled "love and other unknown variables" by shannon lee alexander, although i have altered the pronouns.
> 
> if you have any questions, feel free to let me know. i'm gardenwight on tumblr too, if you want to yell at me or anything. if you've made it this far, go drink some water and have a great day!


End file.
